


Skills

by Glitch1 (The_Glitches)



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Digital Art, Face-Sitting, M/M, Oral, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Glitches/pseuds/Glitch1
Summary: Lockdown introduces Prowl to face sitting.





	Skills

**Author's Note:**

> This sketch came first and I wrote the 'drabble' in mid September to accompany it. I love this pairing so very hard.
> 
> Readers waiting on the story Progress: I am halfway through the next chapter, it will be updated very soon, I promise.

  
  


Rocking back onto his tank, legs spread, Prowl shivered as large fingers chased his hot plating, insistent pressure and eager touches. Lockdown grinned lustily and crawled over his prone partner, throwing his shadow across the small Autobot as he soaked in the pretty sight below him. No sooner had he settled on servo and knees did he press his white faceplates into Prowl’s neck cables, humming at the intense pleasure rolling off the little ninjabot. This close, the bounty hunter felt the waves of hot energy pouring from the spark beneath his, convincing Lockdown just how needy and greedy Prowl was for more.

With a devious thought and an equally devious grin, Lockdown slid his fingers to the Ninjabot’s open valve panel and stroked. Prowl jerked into him, servos tightening around Lockdown’s neck spikes where they had hiked from his shoulder ones. He flexed his spinal struts and arched into the huge frame above him, offering access, demanding more.

Lockdown denied him. Instead, he dragged himself from Prowl’s air space, shadow withdrawing like a blanket.

Prowl felt the loss and his visor angled in confused disappointment - but before he could complain Lockdown grabbed him up at the hips, grip tight as he lifted the lithe frame as easily as he would a blaster, raising him well past optic level until he was the one looking up at his partner, and Prowl had automatically braced his knees against Lockdown’s shoulder plates.

“What…?”

“Gonna try somethin’ I know yer’ll like, kid,” Lockdown purred dangerously, suggestively close to the ninjabot’s interface array. His optics glinted with intent that had Prowl’s spark jerking and his valve clenching. “Hang on,” Lockdown grinned.

He hefted the Autobot up and then right down - 

“Uh!” Prowl gaped as he was seated directly on Lockdown’s face, straddling the bounty hunter. He squirmed and wriggled at the sensation of lip plates against his valve, suppressing a groan as he attempted to find stability, thighs struggling around the neck spikes until, with a nudge from Lockdown himself, they slotted between them.

Then Lockdown chuckled.

Prowl gasped and jerked - the vibrations touched every node in his valve and he arched with their trajectory along his frame. They had barely dissipated before Lockdown’s servos grasped his legs firmly and, without warning, thrust his glossa into the ninjabot’s slick channel.

“Nghh!” The Autobot’s servos scrabbled for grip on Lockdown’s head plating as his hips twitched hard. His valve clamped around the blissful intrusion even as he writhed from the onslaught.

Lockdown was relentless, pressing deeper, pushing nodes he knew were most likely to draw out a reaction. He lived for calm, quiet Prowl making a racket, and he had gained the experience to wring it out of him.

Withdrawing his glossa, he was rewarded with a brief whine of Prowl’s engine before he took a slow, hard lick along the soft platelets. He felt more than heard Prowl choke, felt the shiver run through his slim frame and the trickle of lubrication as he licked again and again, a slow, maddening pace that quickly brought Prowl’s needy, desperate urges to a dignity-stripping height, and had him rocking down into the sinful glossa with delicious little noises of bliss-filled helplessness. Needless to say, Lockdown’s spike was at full attention and he was more than a little impressed by his own restraint. If not for the fact Prowl - was it Autobots in general? - tasted so sweet and addictive, he would have been flat on the berth again with something bigger filling his valve.

“L-Lockdown… d…” Prowl’s vocalizer wobbled, his words trailing off into indiscernible moans as he shook and shivered against the pleasures wracking his small frame. 

The bounty hunter accessed his comm. _“Speak a little louder, Prowl,”_ he teased, scraping his denta against the ninjabot’s valve. _“Didn’t catch that.”_ And just to torment him further, lapped at his swollen anterior node until the younger bot was stuttering on his own ventilations. Lockdown then ceased all ministrations. _“Can’t continue until yer repeat it.”_

Prowl moaned - and Pits if it didn’t turn Lockdown’s energon to larva - and ground down against the bounty hunter’s face, demanding he continue, almost pleading in the way he gyrated and defiant in his silence.

 _“Say it or I leave yer like this.”_ Which was a blatant lie, Lockdown could no more put the ninjabot down and leave unsatisfied than Prowl could stop being a ninja.

But Prowl, in his deliberately-simmered sex-hazed stupor courtesy of Lockdown, was not the same quick witted, smart Autobot as he was without the interface protocols fogging his processor. So the lie settled, and with just a little bit more hesitation, he complied.

“D-deeper,” he moaned, visor offline so he couldn’t, by chance, catch his reflection in any surface on the ship.

_“That wasn’t all of it.”_

Prowl groaned again, this time in desperation. He rocked himself on Lockdown’s unresponsive lips, needing the wicked touches as his high threatened to falter. After another few seconds he gave in.

“L…lick me deeper,” he fumbled with the lewd words, volume low and thick with lust.

Lockdown grinned. As hot as Prowl was riding his face for all its worth, he would always be hotter with some dirty words.

Evident by the sharp cry in second later, Prowl was not expecting Lockdown to reward him by sliding his large servo around his hips and dipping his thumb down to his anterior node, stroking it expertly in time with some well earned licks. The added stimulus served to relax Prowl’s vocalizer and he quickly became very vocal as the heat running through his lines reignited and he was shunted into europhia. 

This only served to encourage Lockdown’s attentions. He slid his glossa deep, embedding himself in Prowl’s quivering valve as lubricant wept freely and moan fled easily. Once again, Lockdown hummed, but this time lower, deeper and longer.

“AHH!” Prowl snapped into a arch, pleasures rocketing to the summit, teetering on the edge before Lockdown let loose on his stinging anterior node and ate him with the vigor of a mate unhinged. Prowl wailed at the rapid, unforgiving bombardment of charge seizing his frame as he soared toward his overload, snapping taut as his frame succumbed to the intense release and he was left frozen, lip plates parted as white hot pressure rampaged through him, expelling all the pent up charge. Lockdown’s glossa led him along, lapping at the flood while he slowed his abuse on the node.

Finally, after a slow, still moment, Prowl’s frame sagged, and Lockdown caught his little partner in a steady grip before lowering him right back down to the berth. Prowl’s visor was unlit, knocked offline from his overload. Lockdown, both satisfied and very unsatisfied, watched him with a wicked smirk, wiping his mouth as he waited, dropping himself on the slab next to the Ninjabot.

When Prowl booted with a fresh hum and a deeply sated purr, Lockdown chuckled, drawing his attention.

“How about yer show me your skills now, kid,” he not so subtly suggested, his spike achingly pressurized and calling attention.

Prowl’s visor narrowed to a sultry band and a tiny smirk tugged his lip plates. He stretched his worn frame and, with the grace of a ninjabot, slid himself down onto Lockdown’s thighs, smirk widening as the bounty hunter not-quite jerked at the teasing touch to the base of his spike.

“Pits, kid, no teasing, I’m hotter than slag here,” Lockdown grunted as Prowl ran his palms along the sensitive pelvic plating.

“You want skills,” Prowl started with a flash of his visor, expression focused and just a little unnerving. He framed the base of Lockdown’s spike with his servos flat against his plating and began to manipulate the energy flow. “You will get skills.”

Lockdown’s retort was cut off with a decidedly surprised yelp of pleasure. Somewhere in his processor he wondered if goading Prowl was a good idea or not.

When he was flat out and reeling from overload, however, he would always convince himself that yes, it was always worth it.


End file.
